


Gardenias and Wine

by squiguana



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Sappy, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiguana/pseuds/squiguana
Summary: After 6000 years of dancing around his feelings, Crowley had laid bare his pathetic, little soul. And it felt...nice.





	Gardenias and Wine

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two idiots and I wanted to be sappy af.  
Also have you seen a gardenia flower? They are super cute and they remind me of Aziraphale???  
Enjoy :)

It was a quiet afternoon in the bookshop. Crowley found himself perusing the familiar shelves of Aziraphale’s literature collection. He favored the leatherbound ones the most, taking one in his hand and inhaling the scent. The leather always smelled like Aziraphale. Sweet and rich, like gardenia petals pressed in the pages. Come to think of it, Aziraphale even looked like a fluffy, white gardenia blossom. Crowley snorted and looked at the book’s cover. This particular book was a compilation of romance poems. Of course it was. He looked through it before gently setting it back in its place. 

These moments of stillness were, he loathed to admit it, nice. Crowley came to appreciate them more with each passing day. Since he and Aziraphale managed to avoid Armageddon and the resulting trials from both of their head offices, this felt like something shy of a miracle. He heard shuffling in the adjacent room and walked into the sitting room. Aziraphale appeared a moment later, wine glasses and a bottle in hand. They settled into their usual spots on the plush chairs, the angel beaming as he explained the notes and flavor of this particular wine. After Aziraphale poured his share, Crowley offered his glass in a toast then promptly downed it. 

“You have to savor the flavor, my dear.” Aziraphale hummed into his glass before taking a sip. Crowley refilled his glass and then flicked his tongue into the wine. He made a show of smacking his lips,

“Mm. Very grapey.” This earned him a giggle from Aziraphale. Ah, and there it was. That blooming sensation in his chest. Crowley thought he would be used to this after 6000 years of basking in Aziraphale’s glow, but the feeling always struck him anew. Aziraphale never seemed to catch on to this notion, he was the most oblivious tease Crowley had ever encountered. Either that or he was just enough of a bastard to know exactly what he was doing. They continued their drinking well into the evening, and when they found the bottle empty, they settled on small talk. Aziraphale happily tittered about a new book he acquired for the shop while Crowley listened intently. 

“I don’t remember the last time we were able to talk about such mundane things, my dear, what with the world almost ending and all.” Aziraphale mused. His cheeks were flushed but even in his slightly intoxicated state, his eyes remained bright and focused on Crowley. The demon stretched before settling back into his chair.

“It’s just like old times, Angel. Well, perhaps not exactly. This is possibly better.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale inclined his head toward Crowley, “How so?” Crowley shrugged and stared up at the ceiling,

“Well for one, we don’t have to worry about being spied on from either side. No nasty notes, no threat of destruction. We don’t even have to carry out temptations or miracles. We can do whatever we want, really.”

“Whatever we want.” Aziraphale whispered. At least that’s what Crowley thought he heard. No, must have been the wine that dulled his senses. He continued,

“You don’t have anyone to report to anymore, Angel. Maybe take some time to find more books for your collection? Visit other countries and sample the local cuisine?” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up at that. He twirled his empty wine glass in his hands before setting it on the table,

“What about you Crowley? What would you like to do with your newfound freedom?” Crowley lifted his head and looked at Aziraphale. What would he like to do? There were many things he wanted to do right now and they all involved Aziraphale. Hell, they could just sit here for eternity in this bookshop, and he would have gladly accepted it. But that was a foolish want, it always was. Then again Crowley was always a bit of a fool. 

“I’m doing it already.” The words tumbled out so effortlessly, perhaps he was more drunk than he thought. “I enjoy ...this.” He gestured around the bookshop, “I enjoy our lunches and our walks in the park. Angel, I’m content as long as I’m with you.” Aziraphale’s eyes widened. Crowley couldn’t look away, nor could he bring himself to say more. They sat staring at one another until Aziraphale broke the silence with some incoherent noise (he must have picked that up from Crowley’s extensive vocabulary). He then slapped a hand on the demon’s shoulder, eliciting a mix of horror and delight in Crowley. “Aziraphale?!” He hadn’t meant to shout, but the wine was getting the better of him now. Aziraphale must have felt it too because he had a death grip on Crowley’s shoulder, as if he was going to summon his wings and fly away at any moment.

“Do you mean that, Crowley?” Aziraphale’s eyes bore into him. Crowley didn’t blink.

“Of course I mean it!” Crowley said, fighting the urge to summon his wings and fly away at that very moment, “I don’t just bloody say things like that for light conversation!” Crowley took a breath to compose himself, “You are what I enjoy most in this world Aziraphale. You drive me crazy, you absolute bastard. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.” After 6000 years of dancing around his feelings, Crowley had laid bare his pathetic, little soul. And it felt...nice. Aziraphale’s face softened. He loosened his hold on Crowley and placed his hands in his lap. More silence. Crowley should have slunk away and returned the next day, blamed it all on the wine. But damn it all, his curiosity anchored him to that chair. He so desperately needed to know the angel’s response, good or bad, anything to give him closure. Aziraphale finally spoke,

“I was always so afraid that if our arrangement was discovered, something irreparable would have happened. You would have been killed, I would have never forgiven myself if...” His voice faltered. Crowley shifted closer and gently took one of Aziraphale’s hands into his own.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, Angel.” Aziraphale smiled so sweetly for him and Crowley was smitten just as he was in Eden all those years ago. 

“You know that the feeling is mutual, my dear? You are what I love most in this world.” Oh how could he just say that so easily? Crowley felt his chest tighten. Is this what Aziraphale felt whenever he talked about sensing love? How tortuous. How wonderful. Aziraphale raised his hands to cup the demon’s face, “I love you Crowley.”

“Ngk.” Said Crowley.

“You are a fine wordsmith, my dear.” Aziraphale laughed.

“Shut up.” Crowley grumbled. Aziraphale pulled him closer and kissed him. He smelled like gardenia blossoms and tasted like wine. He was so warm and so full of love it made Crowley dizzy with delight. He hadn’t even realized that Aziraphale had eventually carried him to his bed. And there they clung together for some time, alternating between kisses and hushed conversations. “You’ll never be rid of me now, I hope you realize that.” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale huffed a small laugh and traced his fingers along the other’s jaw.

“I do hope you won’t take to sitting on my shoulder, dear boy.” The absolute bastard! Crowley sighed and curled into Aziraphale’s arms. The scent of gardenias surrounded him. He would have to bring some to the bookshop the next time he went out.


End file.
